


come out and haunt me

by paradise (technicolours)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (kinda), Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Exes, Getting Back Together, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mark Is a Ghost, Plot Twists, Suburbia, Unfinished Business, if this makes you sad it means i did my job correctly, tagged mcd because of the whole ghost thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27890113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicolours/pseuds/paradise
Summary: mark died over a year ago, and renjun's told himself that he has, for the most part, gotten over it.except when mark suddenly reappears in his life with "unfinished business," forcing him to confront their long and painful history as they retrace their old haunting grounds, now he's not so sure if he's really made his peace with what happened between them.(or: a suburban ghost-slash-love story.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee
Comments: 15
Kudos: 64





	come out and haunt me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stcrdust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stcrdust/gifts).



> tw/cw for a brief mention of a car accident-related death 
> 
> title from [apocalypse](https://open.spotify.com/track/3AVrVz5rK8Hrqo9YGiVGN5?si=IOSNuPlUTO-6y4pKGySWJg) by cigarettes after sex

Mark Lee died on a Tuesday in October. Renjun had visited his hometown to attend the funeral on a particularly miserable Saturday. That was over a year ago. So why – and how – was Mark sitting at his windowsill? 

Renjun squinted against the harsh sunlight, lifting up a hand to block out the golden rays. Through his fingers, he blinked, once, twice, three times, but Mark’s figure was somehow still there. 

_This has to be some weird dream,_ he thought to himself. Squeezing his eyes shut, he laid back down, curling onto his side.

A moment passed, and then two. Slowly, he turned around, lifting his head towards the blinds. Just as he’d expected, it was empty, save for a light breeze flitting through the curtains. He let out a sigh of relief; he was barely twenty-one years old, he couldn’t be losing his sanity already _._

As he settled back down, there was a flash of movement at the foot of the bed, and he whirled around, letting out a gasp when he caught sight of the (perhaps literal) ghost from his past. He abruptly sat up, back pressed to the headboard. “You’re not real,” he gasped. “This is all in my head.”  
  
“I’m real,” came the reply. Mark stepped (floated?) closer. “Hey, Jun.”  
  
“Don’t ‘hey Jun’ me,” Renjun sputtered, affronted. “What’s going on? Are you haunting me?” His eyes widened in shock. “Why me, of all people? I thought you hated me… Oh my God, is that why?” Then, he shook his head. “This is insane. I’m hallucinating, or dreaming, or something.”  
  
“I thought you believed in ghosts,” Mark shrugged. “You know, after all those _Buzzfeed Unsolved_ episodes you made me watch with you.” He took a seat at the edge of Renjun’s bed, casual - his body didn’t make even the slightest dent in the sheets. “So here I am. Confirming it. Yes, Ryan was right, Shane was wrong, ghosts are real. Proof: I am one.” 

“What do you want?” Renjun shrunk back further. “Are you here to curse me because of how shitty I was to you? Well, I’m sorry, okay? I cried for days after your funeral, Mark, I barely left my house for a month. The only time I did was to sit at your grave and break down because I hated myself for what I did.” 

“I,” Mark’s voice was gentle, “I don’t curse people, Jun.” He frowned, tilting his head. “I think you might have summoned me, actually.” 

“Why would I summon you?” Renjun’s response came out as a hoarse whisper, and he cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly. “Do you have unfinished business?” He was close enough now that he could reach out and touch Mark, to see if his hand would pass through him or if his fingers would close around his skin. 

He let his curiosity get the best of him. Tentatively, his fingers creeped closer, and to his surprise, they curled around a solid wrist – Mark’s skin was impossibly cold to the touch, but he supposed that made sense. Mark glanced down, and Renjun swallowed, removing his hand with feigned nonchalance. “So ghosts are corporeal. That’s cool.”

Suddenly, he took in his surroundings. He hopped off the bed, padding over to the windowsill. “Wait, why am I home?” He tried to think of how he got here, back to his childhood room - he’d been living on campus, hours and hours away, but there was nothing but a ringing in his ears and the hint of an oncoming migraine as he racked his brain for what had happened in the past twenty-four hours and came up empty-handed. 

“What did you do to my memories?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Mark. “Is this some ghost trick to get me to help you resolve your unfinished business?” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Mark grimaced. “Renjun-” 

“No.” Renjun said, taking a deep breath as he steeled himself. When he had calmed down enough, he stared straight into Mark’s eyes. “Look, if I help you cross over to the proverbial other side or whatever, will you… Will you leave me alone? Stop haunting me?” 

Mark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, before his lips curved into a small smile. There was an inexplicable undertone of sadness in his eyes, but he didn’t address it. Instead, he just met Renjun’s bewildered gaze levelly and answered, “yes.” 

“Okay,” Renjun responded. He paced around the cramped space of his tiny childhood bedroom, before he was struck with a thought. “You must have brought me home for a reason. Maybe there’s something around here?”

“I didn’t-” Mark started to say, but Renjun clamped a hand around his icy wrist and pulled him up. He was light on his feet, leaving no trace of ever having been on Renjun’s bed in the first place. 

“I have an idea,” Renjun began. He was still holding onto Mark’s arm, having tugged him upright and close enough so they stood face-to-face. “Do you trust me?” 

“I don’t think I have much of a choice?” Mark responded.

“Come on, then,” Renjun’s grip lowered, settling at Mark’s wrist before interlacing their fingers. Mark paused - if he still required oxygen, maybe his breath would have caught in his throat. 

Renjun eyed their intertwined hands, asking himself if he held Mark’s fingers long enough, would they eventually turn warm under his touch? For a fleeting moment, his gaze flickered to Mark’s lips, wondering the same thing. 

Mark stared back at him. There was something calming in the stillness of his presence, albeit a bit unsettling, only serving to remind him that the Mark standing in front of him was no longer living. He’d never be able to press his ear to his sternum and hear the rhythmic _thud-thud-thud_ of his heartbeat, nor would he ever be able to fall asleep to the steady pattern of inhales and exhales with each rise and fall of his chest, like when they were children falling asleep together in Mark’s bed after tiring themselves out from playing.

But before he could fall deeper into the crushing pain that came attached to their past, he forced himself to turn away, tugging Mark along with him. They flitted out the door and spilled out onto the quiet, familiar suburban sprawl: the houses packed neatly into rows, surrounded by white picket fences and sturdy trees with leaves changing from green to gold. 

“Where are we going?” Mark called from behind him, but Renjun didn’t look back. They sped past blocks of homes molded from the same cookie-cutter style, coming to a halt at a slightly worn-down house. In Renjun’s memories, it used to be so full of life, but now the grass was overgrown and yellowing at the edges and the flowers by the porch were starting to wilt in the dying light. 

Finally, Renjun tilted his head as Mark stepped forward, faltering as he silently moved past him and crossed the threshold of the empty driveway. He glanced over his shoulder at Renjun with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Nobody’s home.” 

“Yeah,” Renjun shrugged. “I thought that maybe taking you to see your old house would bring you peace, I don’t know how this works.” 

Mark turned around. “I’ve already made my peace with my family.”

“But have they with you?” Renjun inquired.

“I showed up to you, didn’t I?” Mark moved closer to Renjun. “By your logic, if I was ‘haunting’ someone,” he made air quotations, “it would be someone I haven’t made my peace with, right? So…”

“So I’m your unfinished business,” Renjun finished quietly. 

A silence settled over them again, one that only made Renjun more conscious of the fact that much like the house behind them, the person standing in front of him was nothing more than an empty shell of something that used to be so _alive._ He swallowed thickly, dropping his line of sight to Mark’s chest, which housed a heart that would never beat again, before lifting his gaze to meet his eyes.

Then, he urged his feet to move forward. He padded away from the driveway, pausing to call, “you coming?” 

Mark materialized beside him. “Jesus,” Renjun huffed.

“Nah, just Mark.”

Renjun glared at him, and Mark just grinned in lieu of a response. “You really haven’t changed one bit.” 

“Even in death, I’m hilarious,” Mark agreed, before he noticed that Renjun was already walking away. “Hey, Jun, wait up!”

“You’re literally a ghost! Can’t you, like, teleport and shit?” 

“Yeah, but,” Mark stole a glance at him, “it feels nice to walk around town with you.” He smiled, broad and wide and as familiar as the streets they roamed. “Kinda makes me feel alive again.” 

Renjun hesitated, before he flashed Mark a small grin he just couldn’t bite back. “Hurry up then, ghoul boy.” 

They walked in silence as Renjun led them away from the house, and the houses became more sparse as they approached an expanse of green. He paused at the entrance of the park, turning to Mark to see if he caught any glimpse of familiarity in the ghost’s visage. 

Mark smiled at the sight, and Renjun wondered if the same memories were unfurling through Mark’s head as well - chasing each other tirelessly on the pavement under the watchful gaze of their parents, clinging to the monkey bars, Renjun challenging Mark to a competition of who could jump further from off the swings. When they were older, they would drive out here to destress and muse about life and other fake-deep things high school boys talked about into late hours of the night, and it was here, sitting in Mark’s beat up car, overlooking the lake when Mark had leaned in and kissed Renjun for the first time, seventeen and afraid of the prospects of the future but firm in his belief that they would always be there for each other. 

“Come on,” Mark gestured with his head towards the playground. Renjun didn’t know what time it was - belatedly, he realized he had left all his belongings at home, including his phone, but the park was tranquil in the dying light, leaving them the only people around. 

He followed Mark to the swing set, taking a seat as Mark stood up on his swing. “Careful,” he warned, “you’re going to hurt…” He trailed off as he caught a glimpse of Mark’s grin. 

“One of the good things about being dead,” Mark shrugged, but he hopped off and sat down without a sound, presumably to appease Renjun. “It’s physically impossible for me to get hurt, but it still means a lot that you’re looking out for me.” 

Renjun was quiet. He stared down at the rubber underneath his feet, before turning to his head to study Mark. At first glance, he still looked like the twenty-one-year-old that Renjun had grown up with and eventually fallen in love with, only to end with them breaking each other's hearts. And yet there was an air about his presence that didn’t quite feel natural - every movement was conducted with a graceful airiness that didn’t characterize the Mark he knew in life. 

It still hurt, nonetheless. He stared at Mark, and Mark stared back at him; Renjun felt the emotions bubbling over in his chest, and he didn’t know where to begin. 

He figured “I’m sorry” was a good place to start. 

“Hm?” Mark raised his eyebrows. 

“You’re gonna make me say it?” Renjun frowned, but he shook his head lightly and continued. “You just had to be selfless, even to the very end, huh?” 

He remembered the missed calls from his mother, how he’d hit “ignore” the first two times because he was sitting in lecture, until his mother got the hint and sent him a frantic text in Mandarin: “Mark’s been in an accident. Call me.” He remembered the way his phone had clattered loudly onto the linoleum of the lecture hall, causing the professor to pause and for all hundred of the heads to turn and stare at his expression of shock, before he had picked up his phone and raced out the door, leaving all his belongings behind, pressing on his mother’s contact with shaking hands. 

He remembered the wake - _closed casket,_ a reminder of a tragic accident that had cut a youthful life short, of Mark, always the type to be stupidly reckless when it came to other people, pushing someone out of the path of an oncoming car and bearing the brunt of the impact himself; how his father had to physically pull him away from where Mark’s unmoving body lay. He remembered the nights he’d lie awake, staring at Mark’s contact in his phone, dialing the number just to hear the stupid voicemail he’d made with Renjun when they were fourteen and thirteen respectively, young and dumb and blissfully naive.

He remembered the last words he’d ever said to Mark, before he’d walked out of his life; unbeknownst to him, just a few months later, Mark would be out of everyone’s life, past the point of no return.

A tear slipped from one eye, and then another, until they were freely flowing onto his cheeks. He wiped them away hurriedly, but then there was something cold pressed gently underneath his eyes - Mark’s thumbs, which he whisked away as softly and suddenly as he had placed them there. 

“ _Fuck_ , Mark,” he whispered. Closing his eyes, he composed himself, and blinked his eyes open again. “I told myself I hated you. But I think I hated myself more, for hurting you, but by the time I realized that I fucked up, you were gone. Forever.” He laughed, teary-eyed. “Or, well, that’s what I thought.” Renjun met Mark’s eyes once more. “I regret saying it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of it.” 

Mark looked at him in surprise. “Really?” 

He nodded, tearing his gaze away from Mark and up to the sky, painted in breathtaking hues of orange and pink. They had been so young then - Renjun a bright-eyed incoming college freshman at eighteen, teetering precariously on the cusp of adulthood and not knowing the slightest about what love was, except that maybe, when he looked over at his childhood best friend, nineteen and slightly awkward but endearing, maybe that could be it. 

They’d always wondered if anything could come of them. There had been a time when, following Mark’s graduation from high school, where they’d wondered and they tried: Mark kissed him by the lake, crickets and cicadas serenading them in the dark as their lips moved against each other’s, and yet it didn’t feel quite right. It was too rushed, hastened by the impending doom of their separation as Mark prepared to move out for college, and they’d pulled apart and laughed it off. 

Life had taken them on different paths - different universities, hundreds of miles away, and yet when they came home for break it was almost as if things had never changed. But things did - they had grown in their time apart, shedding the remnants of youth as chubby cheeks melted into sharp cheekbones and defined features, and Renjun, during his first Thanksgiving break, grappled with the discovery of potentially having unresolved feelings for his childhood best friend _._

Catching feelings - that was the easy part. It was the holding onto them that proved to be a lot more difficult. This Mark, the one sitting beside him that would never live a day past twenty-one wasn’t quite the same twenty-year-old in Renjun’s bed, lips warm against his neck as he clung to his naked body underneath the sheets during their undefined period when everything was good, when they could pretend that there weren’t feelings involved, feelings that Renjun just wasn’t ready to acknowledge. 

But then again, he supposed, he wasn’t the same person he was back then either: here he was, freshly twenty-one, and Mark’s death had clearly taken a toll on him. 

Casting a sideways glance at Mark, he wondered if he knew about the hazy nights where he drank too much and found himself seeking comfort underneath strangers that were never fully able to rid him of Mark’s hold. Did ghosts work like that, like guardian angels? 

Mark caught him watching him, and the corner of his lips tilted upwards. “What?” 

“I…” Renjun trailed off. Then, unable to lie in front of Mark, he said honestly, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” Mark smiled, though there was an obvious tint of melancholy in his eyes. He turned away, gazing up at the sky. “Did you really mean it?” 

Renjun thought back to the night where everything fell apart for them - how he’d fixed Mark with his coldest stare and then his brave facade had crumbled the second he forced himself to turn away and leave. 

_“You’re really gonna pull the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit on me, Renjun?”_ Mark had barked out an incredulous laugh. 

_“What the hell do you want me to say, then?”_ Renjun threw up his arms in exasperation. He marched up to Mark, stepping close enough that he could see the tears pooling in the corner of his eye that he was fighting hard to hold back. _“You love me. I don’t love you.”_

He was quiet, staring up at the endless expanse of the night. He had blinked, and in an instant the sky had turned from a watercolor sunset of pinks and oranges to a deep blue, stars glittering down at them from millions of miles away. It felt like it could have been minutes, hours, days, before he finally responded. “No.” 

Mark’s ghostly gaze burned into him, and he turned his head to meet his eyes. “No,” he said again. The second part was left unsaid, words he’d thought he’d buried with Mark, but Mark seemed to understand, even when Renjun’s lips didn’t offer any further explanation. 

Abruptly, he stood up, offering his hand to Mark. “Come on, there’s one last place we need to go.”

Mark intertwined their fingers together as he stood. The iciness of his touch no longer startled Renjun - rather, there was something oddly comforting in the familiarity of the gesture, and he held Mark’s hand tighter, giving it a squeeze. Mark smiled at him, letting Renjun take the lead as they wandered the pitch-black nightscape, hand in hand. 

It was a long walk, though Renjun strangely felt energized; maybe he could attribute that to Mark, occasionally rubbing circles into the back of his hand with his thumb with a fond smile on his face. The sky was starting to change - the darkness was slowly giving way to a brighter shade of blue, and there were hints of light creeping in as the sun prepared to rise. 

He led them to the graveyard, a seemingly infinite spread of tombstones illuminated in the early morning glow as he stopped at the entrance. 

“Renjun…” Mark started to say. 

Renjun shook his head, gesturing with his head towards the graves. He let go of Mark’s hand, letting muscle memory lead him to the familiar headstone, _Mark’s,_ taking a seat on the grass and leaning back onto his hands.

He felt Mark materialize beside him. He was quiet, situating himself next to Renjun and closing his eyes. Renjun let his head fall onto Mark’s shoulder, and Mark’s hand found Renjun’s on the dewy ground. It was silent without Mark’s breathing to listen to, but it was calming, sitting together with nothing left to say, enjoying each others’ presence as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky. 

Renjun closed his eyes too, resting against Mark. When he opened them again, the daylight was warm on his skin, and he felt oddly at peace, like he could stay like this with him forever.

He heard voices in the distance, and he stood up to face the direction they emanated from. As if in a trance, he felt his feet take him closer and closer, until he was standing directly in the middle of a funeral procession. 

All around him were people clad in black, somber expressions on their faces as they clung onto each other for comfort. His eyes caught on two familiar figures staring down at the casket, one supporting the other as he broke down in his arms. _Jaemin, holding Donghyuck._ He swept his gaze around, finding himself staring at his weeping parents, high school classmates, Mark’s family... 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around slowly. “Renjun.” Mark said. 

Renjun turned, meeting Mark’s eyes. Around him, the funeral - _his_ funeral, faded into nothing more than background noise. “Yeah. I know.” 

Mark raised his eyebrows. “You’re taking this surprisingly well for someone who just found out they’re dead.” 

“Who said I just found out?” Renjun stepped closer, looking up at Mark with a wry smile. 

“Then why’d you lead me on a wild goose chase around town?” Mark asked, voice quiet, as if the mourning party would be able to hear their hushed voices. 

Renjun shrugged. “Maybe I was trying to buy myself more time. And you played along, too.” 

“I’m not supposed to rush you. I was supposed to wait until you figured it out,” Mark’s expression softened. Renjun leaned forward, Mark meeting him halfway so their foreheads touched, Mark’s cold fingers coming up to cup Renjun’s face in his hands. “But… Why me?” He murmured. 

Renjun pulled back gently so they were eye to eye. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Mark said, slightly bashful. “You summoned me. If you love someone that passed before you, it’s rumored that they’re the one that’ll lead you to the afterlife. It isn’t always romantic love, it can be platonic or famil- hey, why are you smiling like that?” 

“I figured. I was just waiting for you to piece it together,” Renjun felt his lips curve into an uncontrollably wide smile. 

“Piece what together?” Mark frowned. Then, realization dawned on him, his eyes widened. “You love me?” 

“Yeah, dumbass, in _that_ way. Always have.” 

In lieu of a response, Mark just grinned; the kind that was all teeth and unabated joy. 

If Renjun’s heart was beating, maybe it would have skipped a beat; maybe he would’ve felt warmth radiate in his hollow chest at the sight of Mark Lee looking at him with palpable love in his eyes. Instead, he opted to lean back in, Mark’s thumbs brushing against his cheeks as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his, cold skin on cold skin, two wandering souls with hearts that were frozen in time that had found each other again. 

“How’d you know?” Mark murmured, close enough that if there had been air in his lungs, Renjun would have been close enough to feel his breath on his skin.

“When we were at the park,” Renjun said back, voice equally soft. “It was like I was lucid dreaming, after a while things just didn’t feel real anymore.” He smiled, continuing, “I just wanted more time with you.” 

Mark moved closer, close enough that their noses brushed. Renjun could feel a hint of a smile on Mark’s visage when their lips met, Mark’s hands still cupping Renjun’s face as Renjun curled his arms around Mark’s neck and pulled his body flush against him. They kissed for what could have easily been hours or days; he supposed time didn’t mean much to either of them anymore, and when they finally broke apart, Renjun buried his face in the crook of Mark’s neck as Mark’s hands came to rest around his waist. 

They were in love once. He hadn’t recognized it until it was gone, but now - now, maybe they could pick up where they left off, now that they were no longer pressed for time.

He extricated himself from Mark’s grasp, taking one last glance around his surroundings - it was as if they had been frozen in time, as the scene at the funeral was relatively unchanged; Jaemin rubbing circles on Donghyuck’s back as tears streamed down his own cheeks, his mother on her knees at the head of the casket while his father kneeled beside her with one hand on her shoulder and the other on the shining wood.

“I’m sorry,” he said into the silence, though nobody could hear. 

With that, he turned back to Mark, wordlessly falling into his embrace. He didn’t have anything left to say; Mark pressed a soft kiss to his temple, and he closed his eyes, letting his surroundings fade into nothingness and then –

* * *

_At first, there’s just darkness, but he can feel Mark’s presence beside him, and so he reaches out, trying to find something to cling onto, and then they make contact, his fingers curling against Mark’s own as golden light streams into the emptiness of the void, spilling out onto their skin and illuminating them in its warm glow._

_He can just barely make out Mark’s figure, and he curves his arms around his neck as their lips meet - sweet and unhurried, like they have all the time in the world. The light fades out as the city of the dead solidifies and takes shape around them, but they take no notice, too wrapped up in each other._

_Mark pulls back first, leaving their foreheads touching with an unspoken promise on his lips, and Renjun smiles; those three little words are left unsaid, but they pay it no mind._

_They have all of eternity to say it, after all._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> the ending is heavily inspired by the last scene of [the song of achilles](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/655734-in-the-darkness-two-shadows-reaching-through-the-hopeless-heavy) – a gorgeous book and one of my favorites, plus the song [nothing's gonna hurt you baby](https://open.spotify.com/track/3GhsBdS9ulPK3KCdwHRPhG?si=xPuJaA16SMq7uMAxE3BADA) (also by cigarettes after sex). 
> 
> & come find me on twitter: [@LEOLlNE](https://twitter.com/leollne)


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